


you’re the reason why i’m home

by mallory



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, LLF Comment Project, light sexy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallory/pseuds/mallory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were gone for way too long I almost forgot what you look like.”</p><p>She rolls his eyes at his tendency to exaggerate. “I was gone for three days, Jake.”</p><p>“<em>Too long</em>,” he stresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you’re the reason why i’m home

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ‘Why I’m Home’ by Go Radio.

“Jake,” Amy calls out, “I’m home.” She drops her bag and is in the middle of toeing off her boots when Jake pops his head up from behind the couch. A smile stretches across her lips at his dishevelled hair, and it only widens as he jumps over it and ambles toward her with his own grin.

“Hi!” Jake bundles her in his embrace and in his excitement nearly knocks them off their feet, both stumbling back a few steps to regain footing.

Amy only laughs as her own hands come up to grip the back of his shirt, their legs tangled together as they clutch each other in greeting.

“I missed you tons,” he mumbles into her hair, fingers tugging on the ends.

“Hmm, me too.” Pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, she pulls back to flash him a tired smile. She had been in New Jersey along with a homicide unit from her precinct to assist the NJSP in catching a serial killer. As Captain, she wasn’t under any obligation other than this case being personal for her.

“You were gone for way too long I almost forgot what you look like.”

She rolls his eyes at his tendency to exaggerate. “I was gone for three days, Jake.”

“ _Too long_ ,” he stresses.

She smiles in spite of herself. They’ve been apart from each other before, much longer than three days a number of times. But it doesn’t get any easier going bed and waking up without his warm body pressed against her or limiting their conversations to a few minutes at a time over the phone or through Skype. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He mutters something that sounds peculiarly like 'bossy' (he loves it), but then his lips are on hers and gosh, she’s missed this. Missed him.

She playfully nips his bottom lip when his hands tease the sides of her breasts as they reach into her coat to pull it off her shoulders. His answering groan vibrates against her lips and ripples across the expanse of her face, tickling the roots of her head.

“Did you eat yet?” he mumbles between kisses.

Her stomach flutters at his attentiveness. It never fails to get her feeling all squishy inside at how sweet Jake can be. It’s been years and yet she still hasn’t gotten used to surprise lunch visits to her precinct, waking up to a sticky note stuck to her forehead wishing her a happy anniversary for their first undercover kiss, or being teased about a seminar she's interested in attending and coming home to Jake asking what she learned. “I ate on the way home.”

“Good. Sexy time.” He pulls away far enough to pull her t-shirt over her head and grin at her with satisfaction, eyes zeroing in on her chest.

She shakes her head with mild amusement and leans up for one last quick kiss. “I’m tired and in need of a shower.”

“ _Tired and In Need of a Shower_ , title of our sex tape.” He pauses. “Has that joke become overused yet?”

“I’m serious,” she laughs, pushing at his shoulder.

“I’m serious too,” he returns, fingers lightly trailing along her bare arms. “C’mon,” he begs quietly, lips brushing along her collarbone. “Just a quick one.”

He whispers his mouth up her neck, that warm, wet tongue flickering _that spot_ under her ear. His smile brands her skin when she involuntarily lets out a pleasured hum.

“It’s been three days; I’m super horny. You don’t even need to tickle my pickle.”

Amy feels her laugh bubbling up her throat. She loves his dorky talk. It’s pointless to resist; she’s been deprived of any sexual release for the past three days, and on top of the stress of the case, she’s overdue for some natural (and legal) high.

He softly sucks the corner of her mouth as his hands roam over her back, eliciting goosebumps in his wake. When he takes a step forward and presses their pelvises together, Amy wraps her arms around his neck and grinds their hips together. Their pleasured response gasping from their lips.

“Oh-kay, fine,” she sighs. “But I want a massage after. An actual one, not that weird thing you did with your toes last time.”

Jake looks offended and his mouth opens. It closes without a sound, like he's decided against arguing. Smart. “Done.” He smashes their lips together and blindly pulls them in the direction of their bedroom.

They twirl around the apartment, only pausing to press into each other tightly or grip the other when pleasurable touches become _too much_.

A step to the right causes them to crash into a wall and Amy groans in pain, receiving the brunt of it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, caressing her butt. That’s not at all near where she hurts, but it feels good just the same.

When she pulls away enough to gauge how far from the bed they are, she humorously notes that they’ve barely moved from the front door. “Jake,” she pants.

“Yes. Again,” he moans back.

With a laugh, she pulls her upper body away. “We’re no closer to the bedroom than we were before.”

“Forget the bed; let’s just do it here.” He nuzzles his nose into the side of her neck, growling playfully. “Get nasty on the welcome mat. We haven’t done that before.”

“Jake,” she protests with amusement.

“Alright, alright.”

* * *

“What if I massage you _while_ we boink?” Jake drops her at the head of the bed before settling himself between her thighs and blanketing her better than the itchy comforter from the motel in which she spent the last two nights.

She laughs at the ticklish feeling of his tongue trailing from the bottom of her neck to the collar of her flannel shirt.

(Technically, it’s his shirt. She had stolen it while she was packing, having needed something of his close to her during her time away.)

“Is that a yes?” he breathes against her ear, hot and wet.

“No.” Trailing her fingers under the back of his shirt, she raises her head enough to nip along his bottom lip, her tongue snaking out to soothe each sting.

A low, purely male groan of need rumbles from Jake’s throat, igniting a fire from deep within her belly. He grinds their hips together, and she can feel his arousal through her jeans and his sweatpants.

When he puts pressure at a particularly pleasurable spot, Amy gasps and digs her fingers into his back. He does it again and she tilts her hips up for more, groaning when he pulls away from her.

He laughs breathily. “That’s my girl.” The bedside light floods on then, bathing one side of the room with its warm glow. Jake smiles at her, but there’s a certain predatory quality in the way he’s looking at her. A light shiver runs down her spine, pooling between her legs.

She lifts her brows when he only continues to watch her.

“Just let me look at your face,” he chuckles lightly. “I haven’t seen you in three days, impatient woman.” Even as he says it, he teases her with light touches down her sides and over the legs spread atop his thighs, fingers suggestively gliding along the inseam her inner thighs, but stops just before they reach the apex.

All the while, his eyes take her in as she squirms under his touch.

“Jake,” she moans.

“Shhhhhhhhh.”

Indignant, she glares at him. He just _shushed_ her. With a determined stare, she lifts a hand to the first button of her shirt.

Immediately, he’s shaking his head and pulling her hand away. “Hold on a sec.”

Bringing it back defiantly, she lifts the corner of her mouth in a challenging half-smirk and pops the first one open.

Jake narrows his eyes. “Stop it.”

She fingers the next one. “You’re not doing anything about it.”

“I was admiring the view.”

“You're taking too long.”

“Some girls like durability in a—Ow!” Jake rubs his chest with a wounded look.

_Always dramatic_. Amy rolls her eyes. She barely touched him.

“I think you owe me a message now,” he mopes.

She heaves her self up to press a kiss to his chest, and as she falls back onto the bed, she catches a warm expression on his face. Diving a hand under his shirt, she glides it up his smooth abdomen and tells him, “Get naked, Peralta.”

Something about the way he grabs the collar from the bag and drags it over his head seems incredibly sexy to Amy… Then his head gets stuck in the hole and he flails a little, drawing out her _you’re-ridiculous-and-I-love-you_ chuckle. His muscles bunch from and the mattress adheres to his sharp movements.

Grinning, she’s about to help him when the back of her nose starts to prick, making her eyes water, and her jaw tenses with the urge to drop it. Lifting a hand to her mouth, Amy lets out a huge, silent yawn just as Jake breaks free of the shirt.

“Did you jus…” He sputters. “Did you just yawn?!”

“I’m sorry!” Amy can’t help the guilty laugh that puffs out of her. “I told you; I’m really tired.”

“I’m using all my best moves here!”

“Jake, as much as I love the dorky talk, I just… Can’t we just snuggle tonight? I’ll make it up to you tomorrow morning.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

A pout forms starting with his lower lip. She takes her eyes off him for half a second to blink and then it’s consumed his whole face; his eyes are downturned and brows are pulled tight.

* * *

Amy shrugs into her sleepwear after a quick shower; a pair of shorts and an old sweatshirt that one of her brothers left behind for college. It smells an awful lot like Jake. She lifts a shoulder to sniff the shirt and detects a hint of Men's Degree deodorant and his Dove soap.

Shutting off the bathroom light, she spots Jake still in bed where he had rolled off her in a huff. He’s tucked into bed and staring up at the ceiling with a frown on his face.

She brushes her hair at the vanity in the corner of the room, and with a tired sigh silently escaping her mouth, she crawls into bed beside him and mirrors his position.

His bedside lamp illuminates part of the room and her eyes trace the shadows of their life together. They’ve had their fair share of fights and arguments, most of them ridiculous - some of them she thinks Jake starts just so they could make up.

(She’d be lying if she said she doesn’t enjoy them. It’s what makes them… them.)

She wonders if this is one of those times. Opening her mouth, she’s about to ask when he beats her to the punch.

“Can we snuggle?”

She turns her head to find him already looking at her, his eyebrows still crinkled. Biting back a smile, she opens her arms and he wiggles into them, his head falling to rest on her shoulder as an arm snakes around her waist and his leg tangles with hers.

“Are you mad at me?” he murmurs.

A hand lifts to run through his hair. “Why would I be mad at you?”

He shrugs, jostling her a little. “I yelled at you for something stupid.”

“I yell at you all the time for stupid reasons. Do you get mad?”

He buries his face against her neck and she feels his smile. “It gets me hot and bothered,” he teases and she pulls at his hair gently as a wordless, lazy retort. He playfully blows at her collarbone in response.

Admitting defeat with a kiss to his forehead, Amy closes heavy eyes. Cosy and safe surrounded by his warmth, she melts into the bed.

The last thing she remembers before drifting off to sleep is Jake drawing a heart on the side of her ribs.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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